


Is It Love, Obsession or Just Us?

by Titti



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Community: hd_erised, H/D Erised 2018, M/M, Minor Hermione Granger/Ron Weasley, Minor Injuries, Minor Lucius Malfoy/Narcissa Black Malfoy, Post-Second War with Voldemort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-09
Updated: 2018-12-09
Packaged: 2019-08-26 20:43:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 14,754
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16688518
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Titti/pseuds/Titti
Summary: The Ministry needs Draco to testify at the Death Eaters' trials to ensure no one claims to be under the Imperius. When Draco gets attacked, Harry volunteers to protect him and his family. Of course, things are never simple when the two of them are involved.





	Is It Love, Obsession or Just Us?

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to A for the beta. All remaining mistakes are mine.

Harry walked down to the tenth floor of the Ministry, past the cells and courtrooms that housed the Wizengamot and its trials during these dark times. Only four months had passed since the Battle of Hogwarts and they were barely functioning. Months had been wasted determining which Ministry employees had been complicit in the Thicknesse administration and who had been forced and even after all of those months, they hadn't concluded the investigation. The known Death Eaters were in Azkaban awaiting trial, but it would be a few more months before they could get to them. With all that in mind, he wasn't sure why he had been summoned down here. While he knew about the Death Eaters, he had little to offer about the Ministry's employees.

As he walked deeper into the cavernous floor, he could hear Kingsley talking to Robards. They were standing in front of an interrogation cell and they had cast a spell that would allow them to see what was happening inside.

"We're wasting time," Robards said.

"Hardly. We need him alive," Kingsley answered before noticing Harry approaching them. "Good, you're here."

Harry nodded at Kingsley and then at the Head Auror and then turned to the cell. His jaw tightened when he saw Proudfoot interrogating Malfoy. "What is he doing here?"

Robards scoffed. "He says someone attacked him."

"Someone did attack him," Kingsley said in that tone that told Harry that this wasn't the first time they were having this discussion.

"Then why are we interrogating him?" Harry asked before Robards could say more. "Shouldn't we look for whoever did it?"

"He won't tell us who," Robards answered. "Because he's making it up."

Harry looked through the spell into the interrogation room. Draco looked pale, with dark circles under his eyes. His hair reached past his shoulders, fighting the leather thong that held it into an untidy ponytail. His robe was wrinkled, a clear sign that something was wrong.

"Tell me again about this man," Proudfoot said.

Draco took a deep breath, clearly trying to rein in his temper. "I've told you everything multiple times. Asking me again won't change what I know. He was a little shorter than me, larger build. He wore a cloak with a hood that covered his face. It's what made me notice him since it's warm. I was able to avoid the hex and then patrol was there. I never saw his face."

He kept talking, but Harry turned to Kingsley. "Has his story changed?"

"Not once."

"He still won't explain why he didn't cast a protection spell," Robards pointed out.

"Maybe he wasn't quick enough," Kingsley said.

Harry stared at Draco through the spelled wall again. There was one good reason why he wouldn’t have cast a spell. "He doesn't have his wand."

"We found one," Robards said.

"It's not his." 

"You can't be sure, Potter."

"With all due respect, Sir, I can, because I still have his wand. So unless he came into my home, broke the Fidelius, managed to evade portraits and a house-elf, I can be certain that he doesn't have his wand." He could imagine why Ollivander might not be willing to sell him another one, too.

"Regardless of why he didn't cast any protective spells, we still need him alive," Kingsley said. "The trials will start soon and it's too easy to impeach Lucius' testimony. He's lied to the Wizengamot time and time again. Narcissa will testify, but she wasn't a Death Eater, her knowledge is not dispositive of the situation. We need Draco's testimony, which means we need to keep him alive. Harry, I want you to set up a team to protect him."

"We don't have the resources, Minister," Robards said. "We still have too many Death Eaters at large."

"Arresting them won't help us if we can't keep them in Azkaban, will it?" Kingsley said. "Harry, I want you in charge, make sure no one forgets how important this is."

Harry turned away from Draco and looked at Kingsley. "I think he's right. We don't have the resources and we're so close. If we slow down, we lose people's trust and besides I don't know that I would trust many Aurors to keep the Malfoys safe. I have a better idea. I'll protect them, all three, because Malfoy won't go anywhere without his parents. They'll be safe, and I can still work a few hours a day and that way we won't slow down the investigation."

"Do you trust them enough to be alone with them?" Robards asked.

Harry laughed darkly. "I trust them to know who will keep them alive. Don't worry, I'll take care of this."

Kingsley nodded. "I'll leave it up to you, then. Gawain—" He started walking away, with Robards in tow, leaving Harry in front of the cell. Harry wasn't surprised. It was easier to leave this to him. If he failed, there'd be newspaper articles about him, and if he succeeded, there'd be newspaper articles about him. Either way, it would be on him, because like it or not, he was the face of this clean-up campaign, while Kingsley did the political work.

Harry entered the room, and two sets of eyes turned to him. Proudfoot looked annoyed, while Draco looked almost hopeful. "You can go. I'm taking care of this case."

"Robards—"

"It's been cleared with Kingsley. Go talk to him if you have a problem." He leaned against the opened door and waited silently until their eye battle ended and Proudfoot left. "Come on, let's get you out of here."

"That's it?" Draco asked, incredulous. "You're just letting me go and not worrying about what happens to me. Do you remember that I'm supposed to testify in a month or so? I can't possibly do—

Harry smiled, amused. This was much like the Draco he remembered, haughty and only thinking about himself. Harry cut him off before Draco could work himself up over nothing. "Malfoy, I'm taking you somewhere safe. So let's get out of here, retrieve your wand, find your parents, and bring you to safety."

"Oh!" Draco looked flustered, but he got up and followed Harry as they retrieved the wand and reached the atrium where they used the Floo to get to the Leaky Cauldron.

Harry walked through the pub as if he owned the place. He answered the many greetings with a simple nod. "Tom, the Malfoys will be checking out," he said loudly, making sure that it'd be common knowledge that they were gone. He went up the stairs without asking which rooms they were occupying. He already knew, since the Aurors had been keeping track of them.

The Malfoys had been forced out of their ancestral home after the war. With too many Dark artefacts left behind by Voldemort and the other Death Eaters living there, the Ministry wanted to go through everything. Unfortunately for the Malfoys, the Aurors were short-staffed and the Manor had stayed closed for the past four months with little expectation that they would get it back in the near future.

"You seem to know where you're going. Still following me around, Potter?" Draco said with a sneer that might have fooled others, but Harry could hear the difference from when they were in school. This was just posturing, with no real venom in his voice. 

"Nah, I use tracking charms now," he answered with a grin. "Part of the agreement, remember?" He stopped suddenly, towering over Draco as he turned on the last step. "I always know where you are."

"That doesn't sound creepy at all, Potter," Draco muttered.

Harry raised his eyebrows. "Are we starting a game of who's more obsessed? Because you didn't even need spells to know when I was around while I was using my invisibility cloak, remember? My nose remembers well."

Draco smirked, showing the first sign of the boy he once was. "Touché. Now will you move or are we staying on these stairs? I know it's the only way for you to feel taller—"

Harry laughed, clearly surprising him. "I'm only a few centimetres shorter and you're taller than most, hardly anything to cry about." Even as he said it, he turned around and walked to the door on his right. He knocked on the door and smiled when Narcissa opened it. She looked a little confused, but smiled the moment she saw Draco. "Good afternoon, I need to speak to you and your husband."

"Is everything all right?" she asked as she stepped out of the way and let them in.

"Draco was attacked—"

"Love, are you all right?" Narcissa put an arm around Draco and despite being smaller, the protective stance was obvious to all three men.

"Yes, Mum, I'm fine."

"He's lucky," Harry said, "which is why I'm taking you all three somewhere safe until you can return to the Manor."

"So in another decade or two," Lucius hissed as he folded the _Daily Prophet_ and reached for a glass of gin.

"Or until the trials are over, and that will take less time," Harry added without backing down. "Pack up and we'll leave as soon as you're ready."

"Where will be staying?" Narcissa asked, but then frowned when Draco sighed. "Is there a problem?"

"He won't tell you until he has to. He's annoying like that," Draco answered.

"And we won't be going anywhere until we know. Potter, I demand you tell us where we're going," Lucius snapped.

Harry took a few steps closer. "I need to protect Draco and he's coming with me. The only reason you're coming too is because I know that Draco cares about you, however if you have a problem, you can stay here, _Lucius_. If you die, I won't cry over it."

"Lucius, Mr. Potter, I believe this is unnecessary. We shall start packing. I might require a few hours."

"Hours? You were supposed to bring a few things, just the necessary things," Harry said with a frown. "This can't be all necessary."

"Indeed it is," Narcissa answered.

"We don't have hours. I want you somewhere safe now. Put what you truly need in one trunk and your house-elves can clear out the rooms later. I'll go to Draco's room so he can pack as well and we'll meet back here in fifteen minutes. That's all the time you have, and by the way—" He looked at Draco with a grin. "We're going to Grimmauld Place."

* * *

The house was dark and dusty. Draco could see an attempt had been made at cleaning it, but it seemed like this was a battle that Potter had lost. "Do you object to cleanliness?" he asked as they moved through the gloomy hallway and up the stairs. He took one look at the house-elves' heads and shivered. "Or to good taste?"

"Blame your crazy aunt for those," Harry answered. "By the way, always be quiet when you come in. The covered painting is her portrait. She's less than happy with the fact that I own the place and lets me know by yelling all sorts of insults."

"She always had good taste," Lucius muttered. 

"Again, feel free to go elsewhere," Harry answered with a smile. "On the other hand, the house is under Fidelius, has more protection spells than you can imagine, and it's big enough that you can have your house-elves here."

"Do you mind if we… clean up a little?" Narcissa asked.

Harry shrugged. "We tried, but Kreacher seems to like the house the way it is. If you can convince him, be my guest. You can take the master bedroom on the second floor. It's somewhat decent. Sirius used to stay there. Draco and I will be on the fourth floor. Feel free to go out as you want, but Draco isn't allowed to go anywhere without me. If you want to have guests, you need to let me know in advance, I need to divulge the location and I will only do so if I trust them. Andromeda usually comes on Sunday with Teddy, if that's a problem you can go somewhere else on Sunday or stay upstairs. I don't care to be honest, but you won't make her feel bad in my house. And here we are; that's the master bedroom."

Draco smiled at his mother, who was hesitating, before following Harry to the fourth floor and into a room that would be his for the foreseeable future. The room itself was rather tasteful and clearly decorated by a Slytherin, even if it was as old and run down as the downstairs. He stepped closer to a wall and stared to the newspaper clippings of Voldemort and the first war. "Can I take these down?"

Harry sighed. "Yes, but don't ruin them."

Draco frowned in confusion. He often understood Harry thanks to too many years spent trying to get him expelled, but saving these didn't seem to make sense. "What are you planning on doing with them? Framing them?" 

"I don't know. They were… Regulus cut them up while trying to find a way to destroy Voldemort. I think people should know, but—"

"You've been too busy for the dead." Now Draco understood. Potter was too busy trying to fix the wrongs of two wars, spanning decades while still going after the Death Eaters, and of course, he felt bad that he couldn't solve every problem in a few months. Typical Potter! "You shouldn't beat yourself up. You'll get to it after the trials."

Harry smiled, amused. "Are you trying to make me feel better?"

Draco hadn't expected Harry to call him on it. Lately they'd been doing things for each other, little things like saving their lives and keeping him out of Azkaban. Little things that ensured that they were both still standing here. That didn't mean that they had to acknowledge it. "Why have you been calling me Draco?"

"There are three Malfoys in my house. It'll become confusing pretty quickly if I call all of you 'Malfoy'. What's your excuse?" Harry asked.

"I—" Draco looked at the newspaper clippings once more. Not that he was interested in them, but he couldn't look at Harry with his earnest eyes that held something new, something that hadn't existed before. It wasn't pity, but understanding perhaps. "Thank you for believing me."

"Proudfoot isn't a bad man, he's just—"

Of course Harry would think about defending the other Auror first. Draco almost let it go, but Harry deserved to know what he meant and Draco turned around to look at him, trying to make Harry understand what he was truly saying. "I wasn't talking about today, although I appreciate that, too. They were sure I was involved. I suppose it's not unreasonable. Now that we've been cleared, we could find a way not to testify."

"You won't," Harry said, calmly.

"Your utter faith in us is unnerving. I don't know if I should be happy about it or afraid that you've lost the plot," Draco admitted.

Harry chuckled. "People have been saying that I've gone mad since second year, why should it change now? But you're wrong about something; I don't have faith in all of you. Your father will do whatever is beneficial to him. Your mother will do anything to protect you." He moved closer, their feet almost touching, and Draco wanted to step back, but instead he stood his ground. "I have faith in _you_. I know you will do the right thing."

Draco's skin tingled from their closeness, but also from fear and elation at the blind faith that Harry was showing. "That might be even more unnerving. People rarely have faith in me."

"People don't know you the way I do," Harry answered before finally stepping back. "I have to go back to the office. As I said, make yourself at home, but don't leave. If you need something, send Kreacher or one of your house elves to find me. Yours are probably better. Kreacher doesn't always do what he's told. _Do not_ go out without me."

"Rest assured, I have little interest in risking my life for no reason," Draco answered with a tiny smile. "I'll see you later."

* * *

Harry spent the next ten days in the office, barely making it home at night. He hadn't meant to, but then there was the full moon and Greyback struck, and that put the Aurors on his tail. He just _couldn't_ take time off. Ron and Neville had joined him in the investigation and none of them had gotten more than a few hours of sleep per night. When he went home, he noticed small changes, the house looked a little brighter, but he had no time for decoration tips from Narcissa Malfoy, so he ignored it, knowing that it could wait until they captured Greyback.

Ten days later, with Greyback in custody, Harry returned home. It was still the middle of the afternoon and he felt beat. He didn't think that he'd been this tired even while camping in the middle of nowhere looking for ways to destroy the Horcruxes. He went to the drawing room and slumped on the couch, ready to fall asleep. He didn't notice the three set of eyes fixed on him until someone cleared his throat.

"Are you all right?" Draco asked.

Harry pushed his glasses up his nose and finally saw the other three. Apparently he'd interrupted some family time. "I can leave—"

"Nonsense," Draco answered, cutting off Lucius who was about to speak. "This is your house and you look like you're ready to pass out."

"I feel like I'm ready to pass out," Harry admitted with a sigh. "I want to sleep for days. I've already told Kingsley that I'm not working tomorrow."

Draco snorted as he went to the trolley with the drinks. "Must be nice when you can go above your boss and tell the Minister what you'll be doing."

Harry looked at Draco and grinned. "Yes, it is, but no one was complaining when we brought Greyback in, so I guess they don't have a problem with it either." There was a sudden quiet around the room. "What? Don't tell me you wanted him free?"

"Of course not, Mr. Potter," Narcissa said, "but no one likes to think about the death of one's acquaintances."

"Please, Mother, it's not like we'll cry ourselves to sleep." Draco approached Harry and handed him a glass of something, before giving Lucius a glass of what Harry knew was gin. "Drink up."

Harry frowned as he took the glass. He took a sip and choked at the taste. "Is this Firewhisky? Since when do I have Firewhisky? And why should I drink it? Why does anyone drink it? It tastes awful."

Draco sighed. "Yes, it's Firewhisky, it's not yours, but ours and because it makes you forget how fucked up the world is."

"Draco!" Narcissa said.

"Mother, I don't think Potter will find my language objectionable." Draco took a seat on the couch, picking the end next to the chair Harry was occupying.

Harry had a feeling that he was missing something. "Who's dead? What are you not saying?"

"And that's why I gave you the Firewhisky. Greyback, he's not just a Death Eater, but he's a werewolf and as such he doesn't fall under the Wizengamot's jurisdiction, but under the Committee for the Disposal of Dangerous Creatures." Draco took a sip of the Firewhisky. "He'll be executed without a trial."

"That's not possible. It's not right," Harry said sitting up. "He should have a trial. Kingsley needs—"

"Stop it, Potter. Shacklebolt wouldn't be able to do anything. The Wizengamot won't change the laws, not this quickly anyway," Draco said. "You did the right thing, stopping him before he hurts anyone else. The rest is out of your hands."

Harry showed the hint of a smile despite how dire the situation was. "Are you trying to make me feel better?"

Draco snorted. "Of course not. I simply want you focussed so you can protect me. Besides, I know better." He stared at Harry. "If I were, would it be working?"

"Mmm, not so much," Harry admitted.

"Exactly, because you're the bloody Saviour and you can't imagine not being able to save everyone." He raised his glass. "And that's why I gave you the Firewhisky."

Harry stared at Draco a little longer, but then decided that they could discuss why Draco was trying to make him feel better, albeit in an indirect and snotty manner, when they were alone. Instead he looked around the drawing room and for the first time realised just how clean and bright it was. "How much work have you done on the house?"

"That would be my mother's doing." Draco smiled at her. "The house does look much better, which is great since we're stuck here for the foreseeable future."

"Draco, darling, why don't you give Mr. Potter a tour of the house and show him what we've done? I'll make sure that dinner is served—"

"It's only twenty past three," Lucius put in.

"I know, darling, but Mr. Potter must be tired. It's best for him to get a full meal before going to sleep."

Harry watched the interaction between husband and wife. He'd seen it more than once in the past few months, while the Malfoys had been on trial, but it never failed to impress him how she could order Lucius around with a smile and a simple sentence. He wondered if his mother had done that with his father, but then his father had not been as much a jerk as Lucius Malfoy, so maybe not.

"Potter, did you fall asleep or has whatever little brain you have left shut down?"

Harry blinked, noticing that Draco had gotten up. "Huh?"

"I said, let me show you the rooms that have been fixed." 

Harry followed Draco out of the room and up the stairs. "My bedroom? I would have noticed if she had changed _that_."

Draco smirked. "My mother always gets her way, but you look like you're ready to fall asleep. I didn't think that you really cared about new curtains and upholstery. I figured this was the easiest way to get you out of the drawing room and somewhere you can rest, but if you insist, we can go room by room."

Harry grabbed Draco's wrist. "Why are you being so nice?"

Draco rolled his eyes. "Are you seriously asking me that? You saved my life."

"You saved mine," Harry answered.

"You kept me out of Azkaban. You kept my entire family out of that place. A week we spent there. Do you know how horrible that place is? What it does to you? I could have spent years there, maybe the rest of my life, but instead I was there for a week before the Aurors brought us back to the Ministry and we were allowed to stay in the cells there." Draco looked straight into Harry's eyes, like he'd done so many times before when issuing a challenge, almost as if daring him to deny what he was about to say. "I know it was you that got us back. I heard the Hit Wizards that were moving us say so. There were angry with you, angry that we were getting special treatment."

Harry put a hand on Draco's shoulder. "You did receive special treatment, because you helped me stay alive. So did your mother. Most people weren't even there. They pretended that the war had nothing to do with them and let kids fight. If they have a problem with what I did, they can talk to me."

Draco rolled his eyes. "And this is why I'm being nice. How the fuck am I supposed to be a prick when you're being so… bloody you? 

"Well, I like it, us, being friends," Harry admitted. "It's better than trying to kill each other."

"I never tried to kill you," Draco said. "I only wanted you expelled so I didn't have to deal with you."

Harry scoffed. "And that makes it all better. Still, this is better, but… I need to nap."

"Go ahead. I'll call you when dinner is ready and you can tell Mother how impressed you were with the new curtains. The silk really makes everything come alive and the new wallpaper is a vast improvement over the old one," Draco offered.

"And is that true?"

Draco nodded. "She'd done a good job without changing what the house looks like. Not that my mother doesn't have great taste, but she knows what the house means to you and she won't make major changes."

"Well, good enough for me. Now, I'm having some alone time with my bed." He grinned when behind him he heard Draco laugh.

* * *

Neville entered the Three Broomstick and went straight for the bar, sitting on Harry's right, while Ron was on his left. "Is that Butterbeer again?"

"Just because we're not in school, it doesn't mean I have to drink that crap," Harry said, making a face when Neville ordered gin.

"It's an acquired taste, mate," Ron said.

"And I'd rather fight Voldemort again that drink that shit long enough to acquire a taste for it." He shivered. "Besides, I think Lucius drinks all the gin in the country. I've never seen him without a glass since he came to the house."

Neville looked at Ron and rolled his eyes. "Let me guess. Today's topic is Malfoy. For a change," he muttered.

Ron took a sip of his Firewhisky. "It's that or Greyback."

Neville frowned. "Why? He was executed today. We don't have to worry about him anymore."

"Harry reckons he needed a trial before sending him to Azkaban forever," Ron explained.

Neville sighed. Harry had ranted in the past about proper trials and rights, and he could tell that neither Neville nor Ron had understood his point. They had asked why they should go through all the trouble when they knew they were guilty. They had also looked at him like he'd lost the plot, and they were giving him that same look now. That was why he wasn't surprised when Neville changed the subject. "So Malfoy, what has he done now?"

Harry wished that Hermione had been here. She'd agree with him, but he also didn't feel like arguing about something that they couldn't change, so he accepted Neville's olive branch. He put the Butterbeer down. "He's been _nice_!"

Neville gave him a half smile. "Yes, I can see how that would be terrible. It's so much better when he's an arrogant snot."

"I can't sleep at night if he doesn't insult me and my family," Ron said, seriously, before sighing. "Really, mate, you need to end this obsession." He put his glass down and turned toward Harry. "We all love you and support you and we don't mind if you're bi. We'll have your back no matter who you choose to spend your life with, but… please, not Malfoy. He's a bloody prick who only thinks about himself and doesn't give a fuck about anyone else."

Harry snorted. "Did Hermione tell you to say that?"

Ron pulled out a letter with those exact words underlined twice, minus the last part. "Apparently she doesn't think that Malfoy should be an exception."

Neville chuckled. "She doesn't think that you can support Harry properly either. But, it could be worse. He could still be dating your sister."

Ron made a face. "No thanks. I thought I wanted them together, but he's already part of the family whether he dates Ginny or nor, and this way I don't have to take sides when they fight. Also, I can now hate anyone she dates without feeling guilty."

"You two are hilarious," Harry said, good-naturally, "but I am nice and I will let Hermione know that you were properly supportive on her next Hogsmeade weekend."

"You should or Ron isn't getting laid," Neville chimed in, laughing when Ron's ears turned red. 

"Can we focus on the real problem? Harry and Malfoy," Ron said.

"There is no Harry and Malfoy," Harry said.

"Not for lack of trying on your part," Neville replied. He paused and took a long look at Harry. "Did you testify on his behalf because of your— whatever you feel for him?"

Harry shook his head. "No. You didn't see him at his house, claiming that he didn't recognise me, that he didn't recognise Ron and Hermione. He was doing what he could to protect us. Even at Hogwarts, he didn't want to hand me over to Voldemort and he told Crabbe not to kill me. He was… scared for his family and that's why he did what he did. His mother— For better or worse, she put me in a situation where I could kill Voldemort. She deserved my help."

"And Lucius Malfoy?" Ron asked, the hate clear with every word. "The man should rot in Azkaban."

Harry looked at glass and sighed. "You're right; he should. I know a few months in Azkaban can't compare with what he did, with the people he killed, but— _That_ I did for Draco. He should have his family after everything that he's done trying to protect them."

"I think you're wrong," Neville commented, not bothering to hide his resentment. "I don't like Malfoy, Draco, but at least I can see how you justify it, but Lucius Malfoy killed people, destroyed families. You're wrong, they don't deserve to be happy."

Harry laughed darkly. " _I_ think I'm wrong. I feel horrible most of the time. When we interrogate other Death Eaters and they talk about him, I want to find him and drag him back to Azkaban myself, and then I see them together, all three of them, and I don't feel so bad."

Ron clapped Harry's back. "You're whipped, mate, but nothing can happen. Do you understand? He's Draco Malfoy and he'll stab you in the back when this is done."

"Are you sure you want to let them stay at your house?" Neville asked. "We could find another place, somewhere safe where you don't have to babysit them."

"I haven't really been there a lot, and it's nice to have someone there when I get home."

"Lucius Malfoy," Ron repeated.

Harry snorted. "He doesn't really talk much, and when he does, his wife puts him in his place. That's actually rather entertaining. Mostly, he drinks gin, though. And, except for dinner, it's mostly Draco and me."

"And that's so healthy," Neville said, sarcastically. "Harry, Ron is right. You can date whoever you want, but not him. Besides, what do you talk about?"

"You realise that they've only been there for three weeks and I spent ten days going after Greyback, right? It's not such a long time that we've run out of things to talk about, but right now silk curtains and new duvets and whether I want to keep a Gryffindor scheme in my bedroom or would I prefer something more neutral." He smiled at the memories of the past ten days. "It's—"

"Nice?" Neville teased, once again.

"I'd go for creepy," Ron put in.

"A welcoming change to everything else," Harry finished. "Sometimes we talk about the war or politics, but that's rare. It's nice and if you say anything, I will hex you, but yes, it's nice, it's a place where we can both find some peace."

"It's nice, he's nice, you're nice. It sounds… nice," Neville said, rolling his eyes

"Oh shut up," Harry said, chuckling. "You keep talking and I'll go home."

"You're going home anyway," Ron said. "I'll give you another five minutes before you go."

"Dinner will be ready in ten," Harry answered.

Neville shook his head. "You do know that first you get the boyfriend and then you get the family dinner, right? And in this case, you shouldn't get the boyfriend either."

"It's just dinner," Harry said. "Mrs. Malfoy has her house-elves and their food is amazing, and if you tell Hermione, I'll tell her that you've been giving me crap and she'll lecture you for hours."

"War heroes, Aurors, and we're all afraid of a girl who weighs eight stone soaking wet, if that," Neville said.

"Yes, but it's her lungs and her ability to speak for hours that we're afraid of," Ron pointed out.

"You don't complain about her lung capacity when you're kissing her." Harry ducked when Ron tried to swat him and then laughed. "And with that, I'm going home to have dinner with the Malfoys."

"Say hello to the non-boyfriend," Neville said, just as Ron said, "Make sure that they don't poison you."

"Hilarious, both of you." With that, Harry left the pub.

* * *

A week later, Harry found himself knocking on Draco's door. He stepped inside and took a good look at the room. He hadn't come in here since the Malfoys had moved in. Regulus' room looked completely different now. It was still decorated in green and cream, but the wood floor was shiny, the wallpaper was new and the curtains had been replaced. The furniture had been changed as well. Now there was a big bed on which Draco was sitting, with two nightstands. Gone were the newspaper clippings and the snakes. There were also two armchairs and a round table in a corner. "I like it."

"Thank you, although Mother gets most of the credit." Draco closed his book and looked up at Harry. "Do you need anything?"

Harry shook his head. "I wanted to take a look; I hope you don't mind."

Draco snorted. "This is your house, Potter. Hard for me to keep you out. You can, however, sit down if you're staying."

Harry looked at the armchairs, but they looked too new and expensive to sit on, and instead he sat at the end of Draco's bed, facing the other man. "Trials are starting soon."

Draco nodded. "The _Daily Prophet_ mentioned they'll be starting on the thirty-first of October, symbolism for the first time the Dark Lord was banished. Do you know who's the first?"

Harry shook his head. "Not sure, although I think they might start with the Lestranges, mostly because they aren't claiming to have been under the Imperius. It should be quick."

"Good," Draco said coldly. "More people should do that so I wouldn't have to testify."

"You don't want to testify?" Harry said with a questioning tone. 

"Would you want to?" Draco snapped. "Some of these people are the parents of friends of mine. How many friends do you think I'll have left when this is done?"

"You'll have me," Harry said.

Draco glared at Harry. "Right, the great Saviour will take pity on me."

"What the hell has gotten into you?" Harry snapped. "You're the one who's been all friendly and now—"

"Maybe now that I'm not living in some dirty inn, I've just come to my senses. Have you thought of that, Potter?"

Harry pushed his glasses up as he rubbed his temples. "No, that's not it. Something happened. You know the entire point of having you here is that I can protect you, which I can't do if you don't tell me what's happening."

"I thought you brought me here to be your prisoner. I haven't been out in a month. A whole month, Potter. You keep saying that you'll find the time, but there's never time, is there? You're always busy," Draco answered.

"I'm sorry, but things have been hectic," Harry said.

"Potter, things have been hectic since I've met you." 

Harry couldn't argue with that. His life had been a whirlwind since getting his Hogwarts letter. "That's true. I— tell me when you want to go out and I'll make a point to go with you. In fact, how about I don't go in today? Technically I wasn't supposed to go in at all while you were here, but things happened, and… never mind that, we can go out."

"Have you found out anything about who attacked me?" Draco asked.

"We have a few leads, but nothing solid. There are a lot of people who don't want you to testify, or who want revenge, but you'll be safe with me. I promise." Harry could tell there was more, but he didn't know how he knew, maybe by the way Draco was clutching that book, or the tense lines of his body, but there was more, and like always, he needed to unravel the puzzle and put all the pieces together. "Is there somewhere specific you want to go?"

"Not really, although we do need to make a trip to the apothecary. I require potion ingredients," Draco said. "You haven't gotten a single potion in here. Why would you not stock up for emergencies?"

"That's because I don't have your talent or patience for it. I can buy what I need when I need it." Harry knew that this wasn't what was really bothering Draco, but was willing to go along and maybe get more clues. "But, that's fine. We can go there, and maybe stop for ice cream, although— Just a moment." Thinking of Diagon Alley made him think of Ollivander's and that made him think of the wand. He ran to his room and rummaged through his trunk before coming back with Draco's wand. "Here, that should help in case something happens, not that it will. I should have given it to you before, but I keep forgetting and— here's your wand."

A smile slowly formed on Draco's face and he reached for the wand with a look of adoration. "You kept it." His fingers closed around the handle and he flicked his wrist, making the book levitate for a moment. "I— Thank you. I've been using my mother's."

"But it doesn't work as well," Harry finished. "I really did mean to return it sooner."

"It's— At least it was safe." Draco pocketed the wand. "You're really terrible. I can't possibly stay mad at you when you're being so reasonable."

"You did a smashing job for six years," Harry teased, "besides, I know you aren't angry with me. Something is wrong, and I wish I knew what. I can't help you if you don't talk to me."

"You can't fix everything, Potter."

Harry shrugged. He knew that Draco was probably right, but that didn't mean that he'd stop trying. "You keep telling me that, but why don't you try me?"

Draco shook his head. "You won't leave me alone if I don't, will you?" He looked down at the book. "Greg wrote to me. He wanted me to thank you on his behalf. For not mentioning his involvement."

Harry sat back on the bed. "Plenty of people wanted to hand me over to Voldemort and Crabbe was the one who started the Fiendfyre, no sense in getting Goyle involved after… too many people are dead, and students shouldn't have been involved."

"Still—" Draco opened the book and took out the letter, handing it to Harry. "His writing is hard to read. He's not stupid, but he can't remember the order of letters in words. I used to help him. I know everyone thought he was stupid, but he just does better with practical stuff. I think that's why he enjoyed last year so much. He didn't feel like he was playing catch up."

"That's actually an illness, I think, I'm not really sure, I remember a kid in my class had it. Dyslexia. I don't know how Muggles deal with it. Hermione probably would know." He'd have to write and ask her about it.

Draco rolled his eyes. "You really do need to fix everyone, don't you?"

"Hermione would be the one fixing him, but then he needs to be prepared to work hard. She'll start nagging him. She takes her studies seriously," he said with a fond smile.

"I know, and it's not exactly a bad thing, except when she's getting better grades than me," Draco said. "At least when I cared. Now, I won't even get my NEWTs."

"You could always take the exams. I'm sure we can talk to McGonagall," Harry pointed out.

Draco raised his eyebrow. "Are you taking them?" 

"No, but I don't need them," Harry said.

"Neither do I. Our investments don't require me to have any NEWTs and it's not like I'd get a job at the Ministry or at St. Mungo's," Draco said.

"Do you want to? Get a job?" Harry asked, curious.

"I thought about it. The Department of Mysteries, being an Unspeakable, studying experimental magic is something I'd love to do, but can you see it? Me? A Malfoy studying unknown magic?" Draco shook his head. "They'd never hire me."

"I think you'd be really good at it." Despite his words, he knew that Draco was right. No one would trust him, not this early. Instead of continuing the discussion, he returned the letter to Draco. "I'm sorry about Parkinson."

Draco frowned. "I'm sorry?"

"Parkinson. Goyle says she got engaged." Harry didn't care about her and would be happy if he never heard her name again, but he knew that Draco and she were close. "You and her—"

"Were together in fifth year," Draco finished, clearly understanding what Harry was trying to say. "She broke it off the day my father was arrested, which is probably for the best, because we would have been an awful couple. We would have made a good show of it, but we wanted different things. We stayed friends, though."

"Oh!" Of all the things to escape him, Harry had never considered that Draco had split up with her. "Ginny and I split up too," he admitted. "We would have made… a good couple, I think. We're friends, we love each other, and she'll be an awesome mum someday, but we realised that we saw each other as family more than lovers. Maybe if things had been different, but we'll never know."

"I'm sure you'll find someone. There's probably a line waiting for you," Draco said with a sneer. "If you really want, the _Prophet_ will even run a contest to pick the most appropriate girl."

"I don't need the _Daily Prophet_ and I've been busy. People to arrest, trials to prepare, families to protect," he said with a smile. "What about you?"

"What about me? Draco asked.

Harry was suddenly curious. He'd stalked Draco most of sixth year and he hadn't seen anyone else, but there was a whole year that he'd missed. It felt strange not to have been part of Draco's life for a year. "After Parkinson, did you find someone?"

"Potter, I understand that your mental capabilities are rather limited, but do tell me when you think I had the time. Was it when I was tasked with killing Dumbledore? Or was it the year after, when apparently I failed at the basic requirement for being a Death Eater, aka I wasn't able to hurt people without a reason?" Draco glared at Harry. "If this is your attempt at humiliating me—"

"What? No, nothing like that. I just— We know everything about each other, except there's this gap in seventh year and it's strange, and I was just asking, because I was curious."

Draco snorted. "We hardly know everything."

"We know plenty," Harry said in a quieter tone, "but you're right, we don't know everything. I'm— I'm bisexual. My friends know. I guess part of me always knew. When I met someone I always judged their looks, men or women. I always thought that it was what everyone did, until I broke up with Ginny and then— Well, let's just say that Hermione is definitely smarter than me," he said, with a chuckle. "There was one boy, we lasted a month. He wanted Harry Potter; I wanted some peace and quiet when I got home."

Draco stared at Harry for a moment and then started to laugh. "Of course you are. Mr. Perfect needs to cover both sides, make his pool of admirers larger. Or is it fairer? Don't want to upset anyone?"

Harry tensed and got up slowly. "Fuck you. I'm not telling this so you can make fun of me. You know what? Forget I said anything." He walked to the door when suddenly it shut with a bang and try as he might, he couldn't get it open. He turned and glared at Draco, who was still sitting placidly on his bed. "Did you just lock me in?"

"If it's the only way to stop you from leaving in a huff. It was that or throwing a book at you. It might have been more satisfying, but the book wouldn't have kept you here. Since when do you get upset when I call you an attention seeker?" Draco asked.

"Since _always_!" Harry sighed. "And that's not the reason. I won't have you make fun of the fact that I like boys."

"Is that it? You think I have a problem with that?" Draco snorted. "I'm gay, Potter. For someone who thinks he knows everything about me, you missed a little important fact."

"You never said!"

"Right, because we're such good friends and we simply _must share everything_. My parents know. Pansy knows—"

"Wait, she knew? And she'd have married you, why?" Harry asked.

Draco shrugged. "Because it would have been beneficial to both of us, and then it stopped being beneficial for her and we broke it off. I'm not seeing the problem."

Harry's entire world was shaken. He thought he knew everything about Draco, but in his big bi realization and coming to terms with the fact that 'yes, Ron was right and he was obsessed with Draco', he'd never considered that Draco could be interested. At all. "So why weren't you with anyone?"

"I'm sorry, did you miss the part where I was following the orders of an evil wizard? Because I doubt he would have appreciated having me distracted, and I wouldn't have put anyone I cared about in danger," Draco answered. "Besides, he wasn't exactly a pureblood. I've learned some non-purebloods have strange ideas about homosexuality. I wasn't about to risk angering him. It was just easier to keep quiet, and afterwards I was a little busy being arrested and tried, and then everyone went back to school while I'm testifying against the parents of the people I know and would likely date. Is there anything else that you want to know?"

Harry wouldn't have asked, shouldn't have, but with such a perfect opening, he simply couldn't stop himself. "So… are you a virgin?"

Draco arched an elegant eyebrow. "That was a rhetorical question, Potter. I wasn't actually inviting you to ask more questions, and I certainly won't have you pry in my private life so that you can make fun—"

"I'm not making fun of you!" Harry said, exasperated. "There's nothing wrong. You've been… worried with other things. I get it. It must be frustrating to be stuck here all the time, not being able to see anyone. Why don't you get dressed? We'll go buy whatever you need and then we can go for ice cream or something. Not exactly the same thing, I know—"

"No, that sounds wonderful. I'll just need some time to get ready," Draco said, getting up.

"You have thirty minutes," Harry said, having learned that 'some time' and 'a little time' could mean hours with the Malfoys. He went to the door, then turned and smiled. "You don't even need that long, you look perfect already." With that he ran out of the room before Draco could tell him off.

* * *

Hermione and Luna entered the Three Broomsticks. They went straight to the booth in the corner, where they always sat. Luna slid next to Neville, while Hermione stared at Harry. "Why is he banging his head?'

Ron looked at her and grinned. "His life is terrible. No one to kill, no one to arrest, no reason to avoid Malfoy."

"Ah." She sat next to Ron and kissed him. "So nothing new. Good to know."

"There's something new," Neville said with an amused smile.

Harry looked up. "He's gay."

"Harry!" Hermione looked at him affronted. "You do not out people. It doesn't matter if we're your friends."

"Apparently people know and he doesn't care, because purebloods are all right with it," Harry said.

"Which is what Neville and I said," Ron pointed out and then grinned when Rosmerta arrived with food and drink. "I love you, Rosmerta."

She chuckled. "Boy, you love my cooking. Now, don't make me throw you out."

Ron looked at his food and smiled brightly. "Now, we can talk about anything we want."

"As if we ever talk about anything else," Neville said before attacking his shepherd's pie with a fork while mumbling about idiotic men with dangerous and illogical crushes. 

"Love is all-encompassing," Luna said. "Harry cannot contain himself."

Ron snorted and Hermione glared at him. "What did we say about being supportive?"

"That there is absolutely no reason to, because purebloods don't care that he's bi?" Ron ventured.

"That only works if _Draco_ says it," Neville added.

"And we are supportive. We just don't understand why the evil git. He's snotty, has a pointy chin and did I mention he's evil?" Ron continued.

"Because Harry is like a nazle," Luna said. "He's obsessed with the mistletoe and can't stay away."

"To be clear, Malfoy is the mistletoe, right?" Neville asked.

Luna nodded. "Of course, beautiful, but dangerous."

"There's no such things as a nazle," Hermione said with a sigh.

"Regardless, I've been obsessed with Mum's pies since I was born and I can't get enough of them. That doesn't mean I want to be in a relationship with the pies," Ron said.

Hermione shook her head. "If there were a way to marry food, you'd be the one to do it, but this isn't about you, it's about Harry."

"And I'm sitting right here," Harry finally said. "I can answer for myself."

Hermione looked at him. "I admit that I am curious, too. There's a difference between being obsessed and … having feelings for someone. You were obsessed with Snape, too."

Ron groaned. "Why would you say that? I'm eating."

Hermione rolled her eyes. "You're always eating."

"I'm a growing boy, but let's not talk about me." He looked at Harry. "Answer her question before they need to return to school and possibly she can point out why this is wrong and unreasonable better than me and Neville, since apparently you don't listen to us."

"I… Remember how I told you that I was done with the excitement? And then the same day Kingsley asked me to become an Auror and my first thought was 'How can I help Malfoy?', and that should have given me a clue, but it wasn't like a sudden revelation. The more time we spend together, the more apparent is how much I'm attracted to him." Harry rolled his eyes when Ron snickered. "I don't mean like that. Well, like that too, but it's more, it's like… I want to know more about him and I want to protect him. I'm not saying I'm in love or anything like that, and I didn't think I'd have an opportunity to figure it out what this obsession is, because I thought he was straight, but maybe now, I can see if there's the possibility of something. Does that make sense?"

Hermione smiled. "That actually sounds very grown up of you, Harry."

"Don't encourage him," Neville said, just as Harry answered, "Don't sound so shocked. I am capable of acting like a grown up."

"Only when it's about hunting Dark wizards," Ron pointed out. "You're rubbish at emotions and relationships."

"And if Ron can figure that out—" Hermione smiled at Harry. "We really do support you." She glared at Ron and then at Neville. "Regardless of your choices, but we worry, and we want to make sure that it's for the right reason. You have a tendency of wanting to help others, save them, and that's really not why you should be with someone."

"I do want to help him, but that's not tied to—" He shrugged. "I don't even know what we could be to each other, but I've got to figure it out."

Hermione took a deep breath. "I know better than to convince you otherwise, so why don't we change the subject. I'm not spending the entire Hogsmeade weekend talking about Malfoy. We can pick it up next week." With that, she changed the subject and they spent the afternoon catching up.

* * *

"What's taking you so long?" Harry asked as he stepped into Draco's room and then saw the many robes spread everywhere. "This is your aunt, not a date."

Draco gave him an unimpressed look. "This is the second time I meet an aunt I've never spoken to before."

"Yes, but Andromeda won't hex you if she doesn't like your robes," Harry teased.

"Really? I could not have worked that out for myself." He looked at himself in the mirror. "I want her to like me, not really for me, but for my mother. There's so much history there."

"They'll be fine," Harry reassured him.

Draco snorted. "You said that she comes every Sunday and in the two months we've been here, she hasn't shown up once. I'll venture a guess and say that it's because of our presence here."

Harry sighed. "Not your presence. When I told her, she said she needed time. To deal with your father's presence. He's done some terrible things."

"I've done some terrible things, Potter. I might not have wanted to, but—"

"You were scared and did what you had to. She knows that. She understands," Harry reassured him. "She's actually looking forward to meeting you."

Draco stared at Harry for a moment. "You still see her, don't you?"

He nodded. "I stop by her house, not often. You know how it is with the job, but I try to see her and Teddy when I can."

"How much do you do, Potter? Protecting us, going to work when you aren't even supposed to, seeing your friends, visiting my aunt. You're not getting any more medals, you know that right?"

Harry walked to the bed and sat down. "I'm not doing anything special and I don't expect a medal. Protecting you is easier than it sounds considering that you barely go out."

"Because you won't let me!" Draco said.

"True enough," Harry said. "I— I don't want anything to happen to you."

"I know. I need to testify, the trials are important, we have a deal, blah, blah." Draco knew all the reasons by heart.

"No, not because of that. I don't want you hurt, because— because I want you safe."

Draco hinted a smile. "Careful, Potter, people might think you care."

Harry jumped off the bed and closed the gap between them. "I do care. We haven't survived a madman for something to happen now. I will find whoever it is and I will arrest him."

Draco felt lost in Harry's eyes. There was something there, something that he couldn't understand, or maybe he was too afraid to admit what he saw. Instead he concentrated on the practical things. "You'll have to let me out for that. You have no leads and you'll never find who it is if I'm stuck here."

Harry sighed. "Ron tells me daily, but—"

"The ball. The Ministry Christmas ball," Draco specified. "My parents used to go all the time. We could go. That requires shopping for robes and people will find out that we're attending. It's safer than walking in the street."

"It's a little too safe. I can't imagine that they'd be so stupid to try something in a room full of Aurors and Hit Wizards," Harry answered.

"If that's true, we just have a night out. I'm not seeing the downside."

"Other than being stuck in dress robes for a Ministry event," Harry mumbled.

Draco laughed. "They're just robes, and besides, you get to have the pleasure of my company all night long. You'll be too busy wanting to strangle me to worry about the robe."

Harry grinned. "All right, you win. We can go to the ball, and don't think that I don't know that you were trying to find a way to bring that up. Now, will you get ready? Andromeda will be here soon. Oh, and Draco, I don't want to strangle you," he said before leaving.

* * *

On a cold Saturday morning in November, Harry agreed to go shopping with Draco. He should have known better to agree to a visit to Diagon Alley without a specific destination. Three hours later, and after filling up fourteen bags that the house-elves had thankfully taken home, they were sitting at a corner table, all the way at the back of the Phoenix Café, the newest establishment dedicated to the heroes of the war, with pictures of them all over the wall and food like the Granger Grilled Chicken Breast and the Ron Very Hot Chili.

Harry tried to avoid it on most days, but it was this or walking all the way back to the Leaky, and he didn't think he could do it without hexing Draco who just _needed_ to go into every other store. At least the owner had been nice enough to give him the requested table, probably hoping to get a picture of Harry, who still avoided all photos.

Draco's cheeks and nose were red from the cold, but he sounded alive and happy as he got comfortable at the table. "Thank you for the trip. I think I have everything." 

"You'd better have everything, because I can't manage another day like this," Harry answered. "I'd rather go after Death Eaters. At worse, they hex you, but I know how to deal with that. We spent an hour at Twilfitt and Tatting's, measuring and spinning."

Draco chuckled. "It wasn't an hour and we were designing our robes for the ball. They have to be perfect."

"I didn't need new dress robes," Harry muttered.

"Potter, you definitely needed new ones. You can't possibly wear the ones from fourth year, even with modifications to fit you." 

"I've done that before," Harry answered with a grin.

Draco sighed. "You're hopeless and I knew that you did, because newspapers have commented on it, even with the lack the photographic proof."

Harry grinned at the last part. "Fine, why did I need a new soap, shampoo, conditioner, aftershave and other things I don't even know what they are supposed to do?" he asked exasperated, only to stop and smile when the waitress came to take their orders. 

"I love how you go from upset to smiling because you don't want to upset the waitress. Only you, Potter, but anyway, those things are necessary to keep your hair and skin in perfect condition," Draco explained.

"Oh, right! I wouldn't want to have callouses when hexing Death Eaters." Despite his protests, Harry didn't really mind. If buying a few products that he'd never use made Draco happy, so be it. "You do understand that I will never remember to use them, right?"

Draco shrugged. "I'm around, I can remind you, besides you don't need to be reminded to use soap and shampoo and cologne. And you'll smell better."

He didn't even bother to hide his amusement at that. "Do you mind how I smell now? And how do you know how I smell?"

"That's not— You're insufferable, do you know that? I was doing something nice, and besides, I used to go shopping with my friends and now— Well, they all hate me."

"They don't hate you," Harry said. "They are in school and you are not."

Draco waved a hand. "Fine, whatever, they'll hate me soon enough. Besides that, as much as I enjoy indulging my mother with her renovations, I'm bored. I've gotten to the point that I'm actually looking forward to next Monday."

"First trial where you need to testify," Harry said and Draco nodded. "I'll be with you the entire time. There's nothing to be afraid of."

"I know, but I'm not afraid, at least not of being hurt. You've explained the security precautions all too well for me to worry. It's what happens afterwards, when I send husbands, sons, fathers, brothers to Azkaban. How many friends do you think I'll have?" Draco forced a smile when their food and drinks arrived, but clearly wanted the waitress to leave them alone. She must have sensed it too, because she left quickly.

"You're doing the right thing, Draco. We can't let them go free. The violence would never end," Harry said.

Draco nodded. "I know and I'll do what I must, but it's still hard."

"And that's what being brave is all about. I know people talk about Gryffindors, rushing in without thinking, but that's not being brave. Being brave is doing the right thing when it's hard and when it hurts us." Harry reached over and squeezed Draco's hand. "You will be fine." Dropping Draco's hand, he took a bite of the sandwich he had ordered. "Before we go home, we need to stop by— Well, I don't know what your mother likes, but I need to get her something."

Draco raised his eyebrow. "I warn you, you go after my mother, my father will find a way to kill you."

Harry rolled his eyes. "She deserves the best present; she managed to convince Kreacher to move those heads from the staircase."

"She didn't. She lied to him and said it that you had gifted them to him and he could expand his room to display them. He's very grateful to you for such generous offer. He was never allowed to have them close before," Draco said with a shiver.

"Well, whatever she did, _I_ am grateful and I want to get her something. Maybe if she likes it enough, she'll find a way to deal with your aunt's portrait. She's—" Harry stopped when he saw strange movement near the front door. The sandwich was discarded as he grabbed his wand and cast a protective spell before answering a spell that was coming their way. Lights of different colours met and fought for a few seconds, maybe a minute, and then the attacker Disapparated.

"Time to go home," Harry said, while he still watched the door. He dropped a few coins with his left hand, keeping his wand ready, and then grabbed Draco's hand. He didn't care what they looked like as he led Draco outside. As soon as they were clear of the Anti-Apparition Jinx, he Side-Along Apparated them to an alley near Grimmauld Place.

"What the hell, Potter?"

"Inside. We can talk there."

"Why didn't you go after him? I could have come back alone. I can do that much, and stop pulling me by the hand like a child."

Harry didn't stop, but instead walked all the way home like that, releasing Draco to open the door, and then pushing him through before going inside and locking the door. "Rule number one, you _always_ do what I say when we're out. Rule number two, you hold your temper tantrums until we get home. Rule number three, see number one. Do you understand?" he hissed.

"Fine, but this was … stupid. You could have gone after him—"

"One, he would have Disapparated faster. Two, this wasn't the same person that attacked you at the beginning of September. Three, he was a she, shorter, leaner than the person that attacked you last time. Whoever they are, they aren't working alone, and now I have a way to track them," he explained a little calmer, now that the tension of the encounter was easing.

"You cast a Tracking Charm," Draco said, looking rather impressed.

"Of a kind, yes, but a little more complicated than that. I will arrest everyone involved, Draco, but you need to trust me," he said with a sigh.

"I do. It's just— I know how to defend myself. I'm not some damsel in distress."

Harry stepped in front of Draco and his fingers curled around Draco's arm. "I know you can, but this is my job. Let me do it; let me protect you."

"Right, Harry Potter, protecting the world one person at time."

Harry shook his head. "No, not the world, but you and not just because it's my job. I want you safe."

Draco took the time to listen to Harry's words and study him. The clock in the other room ticked the seconds away. It took a few moments, but then he frowned. "You knew it would happen, didn't you?"

"I thought it might. The longer we were in Diagon Alley, the more people would know that you were there. We go so rarely, I didn't think they'd miss the chance," Harry admitted. "It's why I insisted that the house-elves take the bags. I didn't want to carry anything, and the table was picked on purpose, in a corner, walls at our backs, entrance in front of us. Plus, I cast a few protection spells, enough to give me the time to cast something more powerful before answering her. You were safe the entire time. I would never put you in danger."

Draco took a deep breath. "Do you know the scariest part? I believe you."

Harry tilted his head and frowned. He wasn't sure he understood the logic of that. "Why is that scary?"

"Because I don't know what I'll do when you won't be around."

"Maybe you won't have to find out." Harry leaned closer and so did Draco and for a moment, it seemed inevitable, their lips so very close until there were steps on the stairs and Narcissa's voice travelled from upstairs, making them jump apart.

"I'm home, Mum." Draco gave Harry one last look and then he went up the stairs. As he did so, he began telling Narcissa what had happened.

* * *

It was the middle of December and the trials had been going on for six weeks. As they had expected, the Lestranges' trials lasted about half an hour each and Draco hadn't had to testify, but after that, everyone had tried to use the Imperius as an excuse, and the verdicts rested on whether they'd been cursed or not, making Draco's testimony vital. Some days were better than others; today had not been a good day.

After returning from the Ministry, Draco had gone straight to his room, claiming that he didn't want dinner. Harry let him be for a while, but then he slipped into the dark room after a soft knock. Draco was curled on his side, his back to the door. He didn't move or say anything. Harry toed off his shoes and got on the bed, staring at the back of Draco's head. "Tough day," he said quietly as he ran his hand down Draco's arm before settling on top of Draco's hand and around his body. "I'm sorry you had to testify."

"No, you're not. You want me to testify," Draco murmured.

"I want to see them in jail where they can't hurt anyone, but I don't like to see you go through a day like today," Harry admitted. "I know it was hard with Crabbe, but you aren't to be blamed, for him going to Azkaban, or what happened to his son."

"I could have—"

"What? What could you have done, Draco? You could have handed me over to Voldemort? You could have let him do it? You could have stopped the Fiendfyre?" Harry sighed. "Don't you think I wonder, too? What could I have done to save him? But the answer is nothing. I could save one person and I saved the one who deserved it, the one who didn't start the fire."

"The one you wanted to shag," Draco spat out.

"Too bad you can't see how hard I'm rolling my eyes at you at the moment." Harry grinned when he heard Draco snort. "Draco, we almost kissed three weeks ago and you've done your best never to be alone with me since then. If my plan was to shag you, I fucked it up." He pulled Draco by the shoulder so that he could roll on his back and they could look at each other. "I was obsessed with you, true, but you'd already tried to protect me. That's why I did it."

"But you wanted to shag me," Draco said with a smirk.

Harry snorted. "I know it's difficult for you to understand that you aren't the most important thing in the universe, but in that moment, I didn't want to shag you. My main concern was surviving." The two stared at each other for a moment, and then Harry sighed again. "You don't need to avoid me if you don't want to be with me. I would never force—" Harry humphed as Draco pulled him closer and kissed him.

The kiss was like everything they ever did, contentious and full of life, a fight of lips, a duel between tongues, neither surrendering while wanting more. Harry rolled on top of Draco, the blasted sheets between them as a barrier for more contact. It wasn't until he pulled away to deal with them that Harry began thinking again. "Why have you avoided me?"

"I— I don't know. I—" Draco sat up, struggling with the sheets since Harry was still on top of them. "It's all so messed up. We live together, we spend our time together, and I don't know how much it's because of who we are and all our fights, or because we don't see anyone else, or if it's more. The past three months have been different, almost too different and in a good way, but then I start thinking that maybe you're just doing it to get me to testify."

Harry rolled his eyes. "Have you ever known me to go for the subtle approach in anything? Besides, you have to testify if you want to stay out of Azkaban. That's the deal Kingsley made with your family. I don't need to kiss you for you to testify; I want to kiss you to make you feel better when you do testify, though."

"I thought that, too, you know. That you were doing it just to make me feel better. You are that bloody noble." Draco covered Harry's hand with his and squeezed gently. "And when I convince myself that it's not, that it's none of those things, and this might be real, then I start thinking about the future, what will happen when we're done testifying."

"You get your house back and we keep trying to see what this is," Harry said gently. "The end of the trials doesn't have to mean the end of us."

"Doesn't it?" Draco asked. "You're Harry Bloody Potter, with more nicknames than anyone I know. People expect you to marry the good girl, have the children. I wager even your friends would oppose this."

Harry chuckled. "You'd lose that bet. They might not be happy about it, but they would want this to work if only to shut me up. They might think I'm obsessed with the blond git from Slytherin."

Draco smiled a little. "Well, okay, maybe a few people won't be completely opposed, but the rest still stands."

Harry shook his head. "I've never let people dictate what I do. I've been telling people off since I was eleven. I don't care what they say, but I do care about you, and I want to see if this can last, so how about we make a deal? You don't avoid me again, and we don't have to do anything until after the trials end."

"I'd like to make an amendment to that deal. We can kiss, just— nothing else, not yet."

Harry blanched. "Shit, I'm sorry, after what you said, I just jumped you, and—"

Draco laughed. "Potter, stop being … you. I'm not upset, it's just that— I want to be free, really free, no trials, no conditions, no Aurors. Also, I don't want my parents this close. It's a little weird."

"I agree that it's weird with your parents here. I accept your amendment and add another one. We're going to the ball together." Harry smiled when he saw the little frown in Draco's face. "I mean like a date. I'll still be there to protect you. I'm not letting anyone else do that, but I want us to go together."

"Like in dance together and be a couple?" Draco asked, looking confused. "Because I think I'd rather have sex with my parents next door."

Harry pulled back. "Why? I thought you weren't ashamed of being gay, or is it me? Don't you want this? "

"Yes, I want to see if this works out, but it is you. You're Harry Potter. If we do that, it'll be public news the very next morning, and everything will change. The trials, the questions I'll be asked, the way the press will cover them. Everything will change with one bloody dance. And, if we end up deciding that this isn't working, it'll be horrible," Draco explained. "I want to see if we can be a couple without the entire world watching us and hoping that we fail. You always said that you hated being in the newspapers, can you understand that I want to keep our relationship out there for public consumption, at least at the start? Until we figure out what's happening? Right now, we barely have an agreement to start a relationship and it's slightly too soon to go public."

"And yet it feels like we've had one for years," Harry said before nodding. "Fine, we'll keep it a secret for now."

"This is strange. All of it. We know things that no normal people know about each other, your job is to protect me, we live in the same house and apparently you feel comfortable enough to be in my bed and on top of me, don't think I didn't notice how you made yourself at home, but it's also new, and Pansy was my only other relationship. I want to do this right."

Harry kissed him gently. "Stop justifying yourself. You keep telling me that I'm Harry Potter, but you're Draco Malfoy and you've never explained yourself to others. You don't have to start now, especially not when you're right. I should have thought of that. Now, if you're feeling better, do you think we can go eat? Your mother gets in a mood if you don't eat."

"You're afraid of my mother. Smart man, Potter." He grinned. "Come on, let's have dinner."

* * *

"I can't believe I'm sneaking you into your own house," Ron whispered. "We should be getting you to St. Mungo's."

"I'm not going," Harry said, stubbornly. "You know how everyone gets when I'm there. I get a paper cut and the next day there are articles about my impending death. Last time I was in the hospital, people tried to cash in their savings and planned on moving out of the country, because they thought I might die."

Ron chuckled. "Goblins went nuts. They closed Gringotts at eleven in the morning. Bill said that they had to because they were being overrun and they were afraid of an economic collapse."

"It's not funny!"

Ron laughed harder. "It's kind of funny. You'd broken a finger that time. You were out of there before the news was even printed."

"Exactly, which is why I'm not going to St. Mungo's. Tomorrow, I'll go to Hogwarts and see if Pomfrey can patch me up."

Draco opened his bedroom door, wearing a nightgown and a thunderous expression on his face. "What is this racket?"

"Nothing," Harry said. "Go back to sleep."

"Sure, save his life and let him yell at you for not being quiet," Ron said, glaring at Draco. "For your information, we found the people that wanted you dead. You're welcome."

Finally, Draco took a good look at the two and notice how Harry had his arm around Ron's shoulder, favouring one side while Ron was practically carrying. Ron also had his wand out with a Lumos spell and his hand was steady. "I— I thought you were drunk, which would have been your fault, because he doesn't drink." He went to the other side and put his arm around Harry. "You look awful," he said.

"Thanks, that makes me feel so much better," Harry said with a snort.

"Why aren't you at St. Mungo's?"

"See? He agrees with me." Ron started walking again.

"Two words: Gringotts Shutdown!" Harry answered between groans. "And it's not that bad. I just need to rest and go see Pomfrey in the morning."

"Right, what is this about finding the people who want to kill me?" Draco asked, now that it was clear that Harry wasn't drunk or dying.

"The woman at the restaurant is an Avery. The man in Diagon Alley was related to Crabbe. We've been following her, seeing who she met and how often, slowly we were able to figure out all the members of the group, five of them, from different families with relatives awaiting trial. We arrested all of them," Harry explained.

" _We_ didn't arrest them." Ron's anger was clear in his voice. "You simply decided that you couldn't wait for backup and went in by yourself, taking five Dark wiza—

"They aren't Dark wizards. They aren't Death Eaters. They are idiots who weren't even trying to kill you. They were trying to scare you," Harry said with a sigh. "That explains why they could never get to you. It's not like anyone would have been able to stop the Killing Curse. They thought it'd be easy with you staying at the Leaky. They didn't count on you moving in with me."

"You still shouldn't have gone in by yourself." Draco shook his head. "Weasley is right, you can't just go off, half-cocked and hope for the best. Sooner or later, your luck will run out." Harry started to laugh while Ron cursed. "What?"

Harry grinned. "Ron and Neville said the same thing. They even like to drink like you. Maybe you should join them at the pub and complain about what an idiot I am. It's what they usually do."

Draco rolled his eyes. "You're an idiot, Potter."

"I missed this," Harry said.

"The insults?" Ron asked.

"The Draco who's not afraid to tell me off."

Draco opened the door of Harry's bedroom and lit the torches without his wand. He gasped when he truly saw Harry. "That's more than a few scratches."

"I never said that it was a few scratches, but that it could wait—"

"It's not waiting. Weasley, put him in bed. I'll be right back." Draco left and came back ten minutes later, dressed in robes, with his wand and several glass bottles. "Potter, I swear, you have a death wish. Or a pain wish."

"He's a masochist," Ron said with a grin.

"I believe it." Draco answered without paying attention. Instead he put the potions down and started running his wand over Potter. "Let's see, two fractured ribs, some bruises, I'm pretty sure there's some internal bleeding. How in Merlin's name did you do that?"

"I didn't notice one of the wizards hiding. He cast a Blasting Curse. I flew a good five meters into the air and slammed against bookcase. Books fells down. It wasn't pretty, but then Ron and Neville arrived."

"After you managed to petrify all five of them even while in pain. You could have avoided the pain if you'd just waited," Ron pointed out.

"They were leaving, and it was our best chance. I _couldn't_ wait."

"So eager to get rid of us," Draco murmured between healing spells.

"What? No!" Harry took Draco's hand. "I'm eager to ensure that you're free to do anything you want, including dating me, _but_ I still think that you should stay here until the trials are over, in case someone else gets any ideas. You know we should be done by mid-January, and it's not like the Manor will be ready. Unless you really want to go."

Draco looked into Harry's eyes for a few moments and then sighed. "Who'll take care of you and this house if we leave? Now unhand me, so I can finish healing you and you don't end up dying." He picked up a bottle and uncorked it. "Here, drink this. It tastes as awful as every potion you've ever taken, don't complain."

Harry smiled a little and drank the potion, making a face. "It reminds me of the Skele-Gro."

"Ten points to Gryffindor. It's very similar, but it doesn't regrow bones. It mends fractures and breaks. Now, this one is for the internal bleeding. I'm not sure, mind you, but the only way to be certain is to get to a Healer," Draco said with a sigh.

Ron crossed his arms and glared at Draco. "What happens if he drinks the potion and he doesn't have any bleeding?"

"He'll drink some awful potion that won't help him, but if he doesn't drink it and he does have internal bleeding, he could die. I mean I'm not a Healer, I can't be sure, but—"

"You think I should take the potion," Harry said and Draco nodded. "All right, I trust you."

"How do you know so much about healing?" Ron asked while Harry drank the potion.

Draco smiled, but it held no humour. "Injuries were common when living with the Dark Lord. I learned to heal most common injuries."

"That's why you mentioned St. Mungo's. When we talked about taking the NEWTs," Harry clarified. 

Draco nodded. "But the Healers programme is very competitive and I can't say I was paying a lot of attention the last two years of school."

"You should take the NEWTs," Harry said. "I know you can do it. You know more magic than most people, and it's not like you have to get good grades. You have to do well enough to pass the ones required for the Healers programme. That's all."

"Right, that's all. I have to ask McGonagall to let me sit for the exams without having been in school, hope that St. Mungo's wants a Death Eater on staff—"

"Draco, one thing at a time. I'll talk to McGonagall; she'll understand. You take the NEWTs, we'll worry about the rest later." Harry knew that he could pull some strings and get Draco in if he passed, and it wasn't like it was a real favour, because Draco could become a great Healer if given the chance. "I mean, you've cured me. I already feel better."

"Stop moving so much," Draco snapped. "Just because I cured what I could figure out, it doesn't mean that you can be reckless. You need to rest. And tomorrow, you'll still see Pomfrey in case I missed anything. I won't have you getting hurt while under my care."

"Merlin, he sounds like Hermione. Right then, I'll be going now. Malfoy, keep on nagging him. You might be able to do the impossible and get him to comply."

"Now you're setting me up for failure." Draco smiled a little when Ron actually laughed. "I can take him to the school if you're working, and I will make sure that he gets there before going to the Ministry. I'm not meant to testify until the afternoon. One at the earliest."

"Harry?" Ron asked.

"I'll let you know how I'm feeling," Harry answered. "I'm already feeling better. Ribs don't hurt. If I'm fine, then Draco can come with me, but if I'm too vulnerable, then you should be there. I don't want Draco exposed."

"You just arrested everyone," Draco said, exasperated, "and I'm not helpless."

"I know, but let's be sure, okay?" Harry said. "We'll see in the morning."

Ron nodded. "Goodnight."

Draco watched Ron go and then sat on the side of the bed. "Do you really think you got them all?"

Harry nodded. "Yes, but I still want to be careful a little while longer. Please."

Draco leaned in and kissed him. It was a bump of lips at first, awkward and not very good, but Harry curled his fingers around Draco's jaw and pulled him gently closer as they kissed again, hot breath on their lips, slow, languid kisses that spoke of sweet promises. Harry pulled back, with a happy sigh. "I don't know what prompted it, but we can do a lot more of that if you stay."

Draco shook his head. "Another month and then we can move out. We will move out. Then we can really do this. We can date without my parents here, without the worry of the trials, and without skipping a lot of firsts. If things happen while I still live with you— It'll always be rushed, and I don't know if this will work out—me and you—I hope it does, but regardless of how it ends, I want to enjoy every little step. It's the least we can do after seven years of fights."

Harry sighed. "Fine, and I know it makes sense, but this 'wait and see' plan goes against the Gryffindor in me."

Draco chuckled. "I promise not to make you wait too long once the trials are over."

"That same night! I'm taking you out. Portkey out of the country so no one will recognise us. How does that sound?"

Draco kissed him again. "Sounds like we have a date."

* * *

_Epilogue_

"Can you stop that? You look ridiculous," Harry said as he put on his robes.

"You didn't think I looked ridiculous last time I wore it." Draco finished applying the eyeliner and stared at his image. Soon it was joined by Harry's imagine. Harry's arms went around him and Harry rested his chin on Draco's shoulder.

"Last time, we were at a club and I got to shag you senseless when we came home," he said with a grin. "Now we're going to your parents for a Christmas party. You understand why I don't appreciate the eyeliner."

"You remember that I still technically live at the Manor right?" They'd started dating right after the trials with a firm understanding that they would go slow. By the time Draco took the NEWTs in June, the _Daily Prophet_ had declared them the couple of the decade. By September when Draco started the Healers programme, they were living together. They'd had good intentions, but slow had never been their speed. 

"You never go there," Harry said.

"True, but I still have a perfectly good bedroom that we can use if you get tired of the party," he said with a grin.

"You are brilliant."

Draco laughed. "I know. Now— Have you seen my Healer's ring?"

Harry groaned. "Not that. Your parents don't care if you wear it."

"My supervisor will, since I'm on call and that's how they contact me." Draco wasn't sure why he was bothering explaining when Harry knew perfectly well. "Besides, are you leaving your Auror's watch?"

"Of course not, they might need me."

Draco rolled his eyes. "Pot, kettle, black."

"I don't get called often. We haven't had any real Dark wizards in months," Harry protested.

"And I'm a trainee and don't get called in unless it's all hands on deck," Draco answered.

Harry raised his eyebrows. "When was the last time?"

"When the Falcons played Pride."

"And before that when the Wasps lost with the Cannons. And when there was the stampede at the Weird Sisters concert. And when United won its match in the champions league."

"Fine, I get called often, but there are no games tonight and no concerts. I checked," he said with a smirk.

"There'd better not be, because I'm coming with you and shagging at St. Mungo's if they call you." Harry moved a few things and found the ring. He took Draco's hand and put the ring on. "One day, I'll give you one that means more."

"But we're totally taking it slow," Draco said with a snort.

"Totally, I promise to wait at least another month before proposing."

"You're horrible, Potter." Draco's laughter was stopped by a kiss and another, and when they ended up being late at the party, neither was too upset.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading! You can show your appreciation for the author in a comment below. ♥
> 
> This work is part of HD Erised, an on-going anonymous fest. The creator will be revealed January 7th.


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